


The Start of Something New

by shions_heart



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Dates, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shions_heart/pseuds/shions_heart
Summary: Before Kuroo leaves for university, he realizes this may be his last chance to confess his feelings to his best friend, Kenma.Despite his resolve, actually getting the words out proves to be . . . difficult.





	The Start of Something New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bubblline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblline/gifts).



> HAPPY (EARLY) BIRTHDAY ANNIE!!! Honestly, you have been such a bright spot in my life ever since I met you. I'm always happy to be surrounded by people who love krkn, but you became so much more than that! You've been an amazing friend, and it was my honor and privilege to write this for you. I had a lot of fun with it! I hope you enjoy it, and that you have an incredible birthday on Friday. <3

Kuroo Tetsurou has mixed feelings about university.

On the one hand, he’s excited to dive into the sea of high education, to experience new things and meet new people. He knows it’s going to be a lot of work playing volleyball and studying biochemistry, but he welcomes the challenge.

On the other hand, he’s leaving behind important people. The campus is only an hour away, but he’ll be living an entirely different life away from everything and everyone he’s had beside him for so long.

His mother. His friends on the volleyball team.

Kenma.

His chest seizes up whenever he thinks about saying goodbye to Kenma. He’s been a constant in Kuroo’s life for so long, he can’t imagine living without him. Without seeing his face every day.

“You’ll still see him on weekends,” Yaku tells him pragmatically, as Kuroo bemoans his upcoming departure to his fellow third years.

They’ve gone to get ice cream, despite the cold weather still clinging to the March air, and Yaku brought up Kuroo’s pending move in a couple weeks. Kai grasps his shoulder in a reassuring squeeze, and Kuroo gives him a weak smile before turning back to Yaku.

“That’s only if I have enough time to get away,” Kuroo says. “I mean, realistically I’ll be back to do laundry, probably. And you know I can’t live without my mom’s cooking for long. But . . . what if he moves on while I’m gone? What if he finds a new best friend?”

Kai and Yaku exchange knowing looks.

“Kenma’s not going to replace you. You two grew up together. You mean a lot to him,” Kai says, comfortingly.

“I think you should suck it up and just confess to him,” Yaku says with a firm nod.

Kuroo blinks, his heart leaping into his throat and lodging itself there. He chokes on his ice cream, and Kai pats his back until he can breathe again.

“Confess?” he wheezes.

Yaku rolls his eyes. “We know you’re in love with him, Kuroo. You’re pretty good at hiding it, but you’re not _that_ good.”

Kuroo bites his lip. He’s known he’s in love with his best friend since about a year ago, but he’s staunchly refused to tell him. There are several reasons (going off to university being one of them), but the main one is that he doesn’t want to put any pressure on their friendship. He doesn’t want things between them to change, to be awkward or uncomfortable. He loves the closeness he shares with Kenma; the last thing he wants is to compromise that.

“If I confess and he doesn’t feel the same . . . it could mess things up between us,” Kuroo says hesitantly.

“It doesn’t have to,” Kai says gently.

“And if you go away without saying anything and come back to find out Kenma’s with Yamamoto or something, you’re going to be really pissed at yourself,” Yaku states.

Kuroo stares at Yaku, aghast. “You think . . . Kenma and _Yamamoto_ . . .”

“I was just using him as an example,” Yaku says, rolling his eyes. He pauses then, looking thoughtful. “Then again, if Kenma _did_ date someone on the team, aside from you, it’d make sense for him to choose Yamamoto. He’s emotional, but not annoying like Lev. He cares about Kenma, and Kenma’s comfortable enough to tease him about stuff. They’ve got a good dynamic.”

Unbidden, the mental image of Kenma and Yamamoto making out rises in Kuroo’s brain. Nausea churns his stomach, and he glares at Yaku. “Thanks a lot.”

Yaku grins. “I’m just saying. You need to ask him out before it’s too late.”

After they finish their ice cream and say goodbye, Yaku’s words stick with Kuroo during his walk home. He passes by his house and instead jogs up the front steps of Kenma’s, knocking on the door rapidly. He has no idea how he’s going to do this, exactly, but he’ll be damned if he comes back from college one weekend to find Kenma sitting on Yamamoto’s lap during practice or something.

Shit, he made them captain and vice-captain, too.

The sugar from the ice cream must be affecting him, because he’s bouncing on his toes agitatedly by the time Mrs. Kozume answers the door.

“Tetsurou,” she says with a soft smile. “Congratulations on passing your entrance exam.”

“Thanks, Kozume-san,” Kuroo says with a faint grin, bowing slightly. “Is Kenma home?”

“He usually is,” Mrs. Kozume says with a faint smirk.

Kuroo’s grin turns sheepish. “Um, right. Can I see him?”

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome here, Tetsurou,” Mrs. Kozume says, opening the door wider. “He’s in his room. He told me you made him vice-captain today. Thank you for believing in him.”

“He’s great with the team,” Kuroo says, stepping into the house. “He really knows how to encourage them and get them to do their best.” He can’t help the swell of pride that rises in him.

“He’s changed so much since he met you,” Mrs. Kozume says fondly. “I used to worry about him, how isolated he was . . . I know me and his father being gone so often for work didn’t help. But he’s doing so much better now. I hope he does okay when you’re gone.” She looks toward Kenma’s bedroom, brows furrowed slightly over her glasses.

“He’ll be fine,” Kuroo says with more confidence than he feels. It has occurred to him that Kenma might fall back on old habits without him around, but he has faith that Kenma knows how unhealthy that is and will step up to take care of himself while Kuroo’s gone.

He has the team now, too. He didn’t have that before.

_He has Yamamoto . . ._

Grimacing, Kuroo bows again to Mrs. Kozume. “Sorry for intruding,” he says, slipping out of his shoes before hurrying toward Kenma’s room.

His best friend is lying on his bed, already in his pajamas despite the fact that the clock reads 20:03. He’s on his stomach, pillow caught under his chin, as he plays his PSP, feet in the air behind him. He doesn’t look up as Kuroo enters the room, and he doesn’t acknowledge him, either, when Kuroo flings himself down on the bed beside him.

“How long have you been playing that?” Kuroo asks, forgoing pleasantries.

Kenma shrugs. “Couple hours.”

Kuroo reaches for his hair, pulling gently on a strand. It’s damp, which means he showered already. Kuroo has to resist the urge to sit up and bury his face in Kenma’s neck to smell him.

“Are you mad at me for making you vice-captain?” he asks with a faint grin.

Kenma glances at him briefly out of the corner of his eye. “No. I’d be mad if you made me captain.”

Kuroo chuckles. “Yeah, I figured. But Yamamoto is a good player, and with your direction he’ll lead the team well.”

Kenma makes a noncommittal noise. Kuroo studies his profile, wondering what he’s thinking. He licks his lips, anxiety twisting his stomach. Is this where he asks? Does he just come out and say it? That seems awkward. He doesn’t want to put Kenma on the spot. But how does he lead into it naturally?

“You think you and Yamamoto will work well together?”

“I guess.”

Kuroo chews on his lip. “Well . . . you like him, right?”

It sounds awkward. It feels awkward. Kenma’s thumbs continue pressing the buttons of his PSP in quick succession.

“Sure.”

Kuroo suppresses a sigh. This is harder than he thought it’d be. He turns his face toward the ceiling, squinting up at it, as he casually folds his hands behind his head.

“Good. That’s good. I mean, it’s important to be on good terms with your teammates. So . . . you probably shouldn’t date any of them. Relationships can have their ups and downs, and you don’t want any of that drama affecting your game.”

Kenma pauses his game, turning his head to look at Kuroo with a faint frown. “What are you talking about?”

Kuroo swallows hard. He looks over at Kenma, up into his adorable face, and feels his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

“Just . . . looking out for you and the teams’ best interest?” he tries with a fake grin.

Kenma’s frown deepens. “By . . . telling me not to date any of them,” he reiterates slowly.

Kuroo shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know if any of them are your type, but . . . just in case. You shouldn’t.”

Kenma stares. “You’re being weird.”

Kuroo scrambles to think of a new conversation topic. He glances at the game in Kenma’s hand. Without really thinking, he snatches it out of Kenma’s hands.

“Haven’t you already played this one, like, three times? What’s the matter? Haven’t beaten it yet?” he teases, looking at the screen.

Kenma lunges for it, but Kuroo holds it out to the side out of reach, smirking.

“ _Kuro_ ,” Kenma complains.

Kuro laughs, as Kenma climbs over him, reaching for the PSP. He switches it to his other hand, catching Kenma around the waist to hold him down. Kenma scowls, and just as Kuroo realizes maybe this wasn’t the best idea, Kenma’s fingers attack his sides.

Kuroo drops the PSP on the mattress, as he falls into a fit of helpless laughter. He tries to grab Kenma’s wrists, but the boy deftly avoids his hands, tickling him mercilessly.

“Kenma, Kenma, _stop_ ,” Kuroo pleads, his lungs burning.

He knows it’d be futile to tickle Kenma in return (the damn kid isn’t at all ticklish), so he reaches for his face instead, grabbing it and trying to push it away, push Kenma away, but Kenma simply seizes his wrists and leans forward to pin them onto the mattress. At least now he isn’t tickling him.

Kuroo gasps for breath, realizing suddenly that Kenma has straddled his hips, and he’s leaning over him in order to keep his arms still, his face inches away. He’s frowning, annoyed, his hair hanging over his face. Kuroo’s heart pounds rapidly in his chest. He wonders if Kenma can hear it.

“I surrender,” Kuroo declares. “Please spare my life, gracious lord.”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “You’re so annoying,” he says, loosening his hold.

Kuroo takes advantage of this to suddenly flip them over, now pinning Kenma to the bed. He hears Kenma’s sharp intake of breath, sees the way his eyes widen, and he smirks triumphantly, as he looms over him.

“Shouldn’t have let your guard down,” he says. “Rookie mistake.”

Kenma doesn’t move, only blinks at him. Kuroo stares back, his grin fading, as he looks into Kenma’s eyes and feels something shift in the atmosphere. He can feel Kenma’s pulse racing in his wrists beneath his palms, as he grasps them firmly against the bed. His mind goes blank, as he feels blood rushing to his face and . . . other areas.

 _Kiss him, dumbass!_ a voice in his head, that sounds suspiciously like Yaku, scolds him.

Kuroo swallows hard. _I can’t kiss him now. I don’t even know if he **wants** me to kiss him. He’s probably never been kissed before. I can’t steal his first kiss!_

“Kuro,” Kenma says softly.

Kuroo jolts back to reality. He licks his dry lips, giving Kenma a tentative half-smile. “Yeah?”

“You’re on my leg.”

Kuroo glances down, noticing first the conspicuous bulge in his pants before seeing his knee pressed into Kenma’s thigh. He grimaces, getting off Kenma quickly.

“Shit, sorry.” He slides off the bed, standing as he hears the rushing of his blood in his ears, along with the relentless pounding of his heart.

Kenma sits up slowly, tilting his head as he observes Kuroo.

_Shit, can he tell? What is he going to say? Is he going to say anything? Shit._

“I should go,” Kuroo says, rubbing the back of his neck, as he starts backing out of the room, trying desperately to think of turn-offs. “Still got stuff to pack up.”

Kenma scoots to the edge of the bed, allowing his legs to dangle off it. “Kuro . . .”

“I’ll talk to you later!” Kuroo hastens out the door.

_Stupid. Stupid! I can’t believe I did that._

Wrestling with Kenma was all well and good when they were kids, but they’re teenagers now. And Kuroo _knows_ how Kenma makes him feel, how his thoughts regarding his friend aren’t always pure (much to his own chagrin). He shouldn’t have risked something so foolish.

“I’m an eighteen-year-old guy. It happens. It’s natural,” Kuroo reasons with himself, as he walks back toward his own house.

That doesn’t make it any less embarrassing.

His mother calls to him when he enters, but Kuroo escapes to his bedroom immediately. 

He pulls out his phone to see he’s received a few texts.

 **Yakkun**  
_have u asked him yet???_ (20:14)

 **Kai**  
_sending you strength_ (20:32)

 **Kenma**  
_u ok?_ (20:45)

Kuroo disregards the first two in favor of staring at Kenma’s. He isn’t entirely sure what to say. Technically, he’s fine. But the state of his emotions is an entirely different matter, and as much as he wants to spill his guts to his best friend the way he would in any other situation, he just . . . can’t.

>> _everythings awesome! see you tomorrow! make sure you sleep!_

Kuroo grimaces, reading that. Kenma will see right through it, probably. He erases the message and tries again.

>> _kind of? there’s a lot going on right now. things are confusing. can we go somewhere and talk tmr?_

He hits send and not two seconds later he receives a reply.

 **Kenma**  
_where?_ (20:54)

Kuroo exhales shakily.

>> _ill swing by your place around 11? we can get hot chocolate at that café you like._

 **Kenma**  
_ok_ (20:54)

>> _don’t stay up too late_

Kenma sends a middle finger emoji in reply to that, which has Kuroo chuckling despite his anxiety.

***

It’s not exactly a date, but Kuroo feels nervous just the same. He showers and attempts to do something nice with his hair (he fails). He shaves carefully and slathers on the best smelling aftershave he has, before dressing in a dark blue turtleneck sweater and some jeans that he’s pretty sure look good on him.

“Where are you going looking all fancy?” Mrs. Kuroo steps out of the kitchen, observing her son with a keen eye.

“Nowhere,” Kuroo says, as casually as possible as he pulls on his shoes and grabs his nice coat. The long black one with the large buttons.

“Uh-huh.” Mrs. Kuroo leans in the doorway, crossing her arms over her chest and smirking. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“Mom, please,” Kuroo says, desperately. The last thing he needs is some teasing to lower his self-esteem. He’s anxious enough as it is. “It’s not a date.”

“If you say so~”

Kuroo’s almost escaped out the door when he hears his mom call to him.

“Tell Kenma-kun I said hi!”

 _Dammit._ Kuroo grimaces, as he shuts the door and locks it behind him. _She knows too?_

Deciding it’s too much to worry about, Kuroo shakes the thought from his head. He makes his way down the two doors to Kenma’s house, jogging up the front steps and knocking sharply. He hopes Kenma didn’t stay up too late and is still in bed.

Surprisingly, it’s Kenma himself who opens the door. Kuroo’s greeting gets stuck in his throat, as he looks down at his best friend.

Kenma’s wearing a dark red sweater with a dark gray scarf and skinny jeans that must be new because Kuroo’s never seen them before in his life. He’s pretty sure he’d remember Kenma’s legs in those jeans if he had.

“Hey,” Kenma says, grabbing a black beanie to pull over his head and grabbing his coat before stepping outside.

“H-hey,” Kuroo says, blinking blankly. Kenma looks _good_. He’s fairly certain he’s never seen Kenma go to this much effort to look good in his life.

“You’re being weird again,” Kenma says, putting his coat on, as he steps past Kuroo to head down the steps to the front lawn.

“Uh, sorry,” Kuroo says quickly, following him.

They walk in silence for a few moments, before Kuroo bursts out with the question burning on his tongue. “So what’s with the outfit? You never look this good.”

Kenma shoots him a glare, and Kuroo realizes how that sounds. He quickly backtracks.

“No, I mean . . . you always look good. But, you know. You’re just . . . you made an effort today.”

Kenma shrugs, looking away. “I felt like it.”

Kuroo’s head spins. _Does he think this is a date? **Is** this a date?!_

Kenma offers no more clues, and Kuroo doesn’t want to come out and ask . . . especially when he’s the one who initiated this in the first place. He should know what this is. They’re just going somewhere to talk. So Kuroo can angst about everything he’s going through in a comforting environment with the person he trusts the most.

It’s not a date. Not necessarily.

It could be.

But it’s not.

The café is in Ikebukuro, which means they have to ride the train. It only takes ten minutes, but sitting so close to Kenma makes the trip feel hours long. Kenma gets his phone out and engrosses himself in a game, but Kuroo sits tapping his fingers on his knee, looking everywhere inside the train car except at the boy beside him. At this proximity, Kuroo can smell something citrusy coming off Kenma. Is that scent for Kuroo’s benefit? Or is Kenma just trying something new with his shampoo?

They finally arrive downtown, and Kenma puts away his phone in favor of curling his fingers into the side of Kuroo’s coat. Because people are still on break from school, the city is crowded, and Kenma presses close against Kuroo’s side to keep from getting swept away by passers-by. It’s a familiar thing, but Kuroo’s heart still pounds wildly in his chest, as he registers the warmth of Kenma against him.

Once at the café, Kenma relaxes and releases Kuroo’s coat in favor of selecting his favorite table. Kuroo heads to the front to order. As he waits for their drinks to be made, he catches himself watching Kenma, as he settles in at a table near the window. He sets his elbows on the table, his chin his hands, as he watches the people moving back and forth outside. 

Kuroo can’t help but stare at his profile, half-hidden behind his hair but still captivating. Kenma’s features have always intrigued Kuroo. While adorable, he’s not attractive in the sense Kuroo feels most people would consider conventional. There’s something unnerving about his eyes; besides just the largeness of them, there’s the way he watches you, analyzes you. The first word that comes to mind when Kuroo reflects on Kenma’s features is ‘”intriguing.” He looks into that face and he’s draw in, wanting to study it. To know it.

Kuroo can’t help but wonder, as he takes their hot chocolate from the barista and makes his way to the table, what Kenma sees when he looks at Kuroo’s features.

“People watching?” he asks with a grin, sitting down across from Kenma and sliding his drink over to him.

“They’re stressed. Everything’s going to be starting soon. High school, university, jobs . . . new opportunities that they can either win or lose.”

“Yeah . . . I can understand that,” Kuroo admits, glancing out the window, trying to see what Kenma saw. People move quickly, everyone with a certain destination in mind. “The stress, I mean.” He looks back at Kenma with a faint grin. “Pretty stressed myself, actually.”

Kenma turns to blink at him. He picks up his mug, licking lightly at the whipped cream piled high on top of his hot chocolate. Kuroo catches himself staring at that small pink tongue and looks away, clearing his throat.

“It’s just . . . I know what I’m doing. With university, I mean. I’m going to play volleyball and study biochemistry, and it’s going to be rough, but I can manage it. But it’s going to be different . . . being away from all of this. Leaving the team, my mom.” He swallows hard, turning back to Kenma. “You.”

Kenma sips his drink, watching Kuroo silently.

Kuroo looks down at his own mug, trailing his fingers across the warm side. “I guess I’m just . . . worried. About how you’re going to do when I’m gone. I mean, I hope you do well. I think you will. You’re stronger than you think you are sometimes. But . . . hell, Kenma . . . we’ve been practically joined at the hip since primary school. I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” Kenma says softly, lowering his mug and staring down at it.

“Right? It sucks.” Kuroo sinks back in his seat, sighing. “I mean, I know we’ll have Skype and Line and stuff. And I’m going to be back to visit, for sure. But it’s going to be different. I’m going to have my new life over there, and you’ll be starting a new life over here. With new . . . people and teammates and . . . potential best friends . . .”

Kenma frowns, lifting his gaze once more. “I’m not replacing you.”

Kuroo bites his lip, giving Kenma a sad smile, as his chest tightens. “Things happen. People grow apart . . .”

Kenma shakes his head emphatically. “No. It’s not going to happen.”

Kuroo’s heart flutters pathetically, as seeds of hope start to grow inside it. But reality still looms. “It’s okay, you know? I can’t be selfish. If you meet someone . . . or if you grow closer to someone that you really want to be with . . .”

“Kuro,” Kenma says tightly, gripping his mug with both hands. “Shut up.”

Kuroo falls silent, watching as Kenma takes a deep breath, seemingly steadying himself.

“Is this why you were asking about Tora last night?”

Kuroo grimaces. “Yakkun said something and . . . I don’t know. You two do have good chemistry.”

“And what? You thought I might fall for him?”

Kuroo rubs the back of his neck, a flush warming it. “Well. It sounds kind of silly when you say it like that.”

“Because it’s stupid. I don’t like Tora like that. I’m not going to like him like that.”

Kuroo nods. “Because you’re not gay,” he concludes, guessing that should’ve been his first question instead of just assuming.

Kenma’s face turns a bright red, and Kuroo blinks, wondering what he said wrong.

“Because I’m in love with you, idiot,” Kenma hisses, his hands trembling around his mug.

Kuroo’s brain shortages. He wonders if he heard that correctly. _Kenma’s . . . in love with . . . but that can’t be right._

“You . . . what?”

“Ugh,” Kenma complains, slumping back in his seat. He glowers at his mug, turning it slowly between his hands. “I wasn’t going to tell you.”

“. . . _Why_?” Kuroo can’t believe he was going to let him leave without telling him. What the hell?

Kenma bites his lip. “You’re going off to _university._ I didn’t want to be something that held you back or . . . made you second-guess anything.” He sighs. “I hate that you’re leaving. I want you to stay. I want you to come back and visit every weekend, practice and studying be damned. But . . . that’s not the right thing for you. And I know if we’re together, you’re going to be stupid and try to put _my_ wants and needs above your own. I can’t be selfish either.”

Kuroo sit up in his seat. “Wait, wait, you’re acting like you already know I’ll say yes to your confession.”

Kenma gives him a look.

Realization dawns on him. “You . . . already know that I like you,” Kuroo surmises.

“I’m not stupid.”

“And you never said anything about your own feelings because you didn’t want to hold me back?”

Kenma stares at him.

Kuroo shake his head, leaning forward urgently. “Kenma, that’s not . . . you wouldn’t do that to me. I know the responsibilities I have, am going to have . . . I know I won’t be able to prioritize you the way I want to . . . that’s one of the reasons why I didn’t want to say anything either. I won’t be able to be here for you the way I have been, the way I want to be. You don’t deserve an absent boyfriend. You—”

Kenma sits up, reaching across the table to place his hand over Kuroo’s mouth to cut him off. “I don’t care about that,” he says. “I can take care of myself. If I know you’re mine . . . I’ll be fine. We can make it work.”

Kuroo stares at him, sees the fire in his eyes, the firmness of his tone. When Kenma gets forceful like this, it’s easy to believe everything he says. And Kuroo so desperately wants to believe it.

He reaches up to take Kenma’s wrist, pulling his hand away from his mouth before sliding his hand up to take it, holding it gently.

“I love you,” he says, and it’s a relief to say it. He’s been holding it in for so long . . . he can feel the weight of the words being lifted off his chest.

Kenma’s face grows red again, and he lowers his gaze to the table. “I . . . love you too,” he murmurs.

Kuroo gives his hand a squeeze, unable to help the grin that’s now residing on his face. “You’re right. We can make it work. I want this with you.”

Kenma squeezes his hand in return before pulling his hand away.

“Your hot chocolate’s getting cold,” he says absently, as he picks up his mug once more to drink.

Kuroo grins, picking up his drink as well. “So does this mean I get to keep sexy photos of you on my phone for when I’m lonely?”

Kenma scowls suddenly and kicks him underneath the table, hard. Kuroo yelps, rubbing at his shin. Despite this, he laughs, and his chest feels light for the first time in weeks.

The train ride back seems too quick, this time. Kuroo holds Kenma’s hand surreptitiously between them, unable to stop grinning, even as Kenma keeps his face turned away.

As they walk back to Kenma’s house, Kuroo stops them before they enter their neighborhood. He glances around briefly before locating a shaded spot behind a corner grocery. He pulls Kenma into that shade, pressing him gently against the wall of the building. He shields them with his body, just in case anyone happens to pass by.

Kenma simply watches him, no trace of fear or anxiety in his expression, though Kuroo’s heart has started up a rumba, again.

“I wanted to kiss you last night,” he confesses. “But I was too chicken. Can I now?”

Kenma doesn’t answer, simply wraps his arms around Kuroo’s neck and pulls him in close. Kuroo hesitates just a split second before their lips meet, taking the moment to look at Kenma’s face. His eyes are closed, his lips pursed expectantly, a flush coloring his cheeks. Kuroo can’t help but grin before closing that gap and pressing his lips softly but firmly against Kenma’s.

It starts off simple, chaste. Kuroo leans one arm against the wall above Kenma’s head, using his other hand to cradle the side of his face. Kenma’s lips are chapped, like his own, but they’re warm, and Kuroo finds himself tilting his head in order to kiss him deeper, slotting his lips between Kenma’s with a murmur of longing.

He’s ached for this for so long. He can’t believe it’s finally happening. Warmth spreads through him, as his heart dances away. Kenma’s fingers move up into his hair, gripping the strands gently, as he sighs. He parts his lips, tongue seeking, and Kuroo obliges, opening for him and meeting him with his own. It’s soft, squishy, entirely foreign, and a shiver runs down Kuroo’s spine at the contact.

He breaks away in order to catch his breath, setting his forehead against Kenma’s, as he pants quietly.

“That was my first kiss,” he admits.

“I know,” Kenma replies, smirking faintly.

Kuroo brushes his thumb across Kenma’s cheekbone. “Yours too?”

Kenma nods, just barely. Kuroo grins, unable to help but feel giddy about the admission.

“I was waiting for you.”

Kenma rolls his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Kuroo insists. “I mean, maybe not my whole life but. Once I knew, I knew.”

Kenma considers him a moment before lowering his gaze. “I knew my whole life,” he admits quietly.

Kuroo stares. “Really?” he asks incredulously. Kenma’s been in love with him this long?

Kenma sighs, setting his head back against the wall behind him. “Ever since I met you,” he says, his eyes still fixed somewhere on Kuroo’s chest.

“Thank you for waiting,” Kuroo says earnestly. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

“It’s okay.” Kenma smirks, lifting his gaze finally to meet his. “I knew you were an idiot when I met you, too.”

Kuroo can’t help but laugh. “Hey!”

Kenma pushes him back, straightening and grabbing his hand once more. He pulls Kuroo away from the building, heading toward his house. Kuroo follows willingly, pretty sure that his grin is permanently stuck to his face.

He follows Kenma inside, and he expects Kenma to release his hand as they pass his mom, but he doesn’t. Instead, he continues to lead Kuroo to his room. Only then does he release him.

“What are we doing?” Kuroo asks curiously.

“Continuing,” Kenma says, reaching for him.

Kuroo’s face burns. “With your mom home?” he asks, his voice squeaking without his consent.

Kenma rolls his eyes. “We’re not going to do anything.”

“Oh,” Kuroo says, not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed.

Kenma smirks. “We’ll save that for when I visit you.”

Kuroo really hopes they don’t have to wait too long. He wraps his arms around Kenma, picking him up and placing him on the bed. He leans over him, making sure he isn’t squishing any part of him, this time. Kenma lies beneath him, perfectly relaxed, as he runs his fingers through Kuroo’s hair lazily.

Kuroo shakes his head, unable to believe this is really happening.

“This is real?” he asks, just to be sure.

Kenma nods. “It’s real.”

“You really love me,” Kuroo breathes in wonder.

Kenma blushes, but he tugs Kuroo down into another kiss. Kuroo melts into it, guessing he’ll have to thank Yaku and Kai later.

For now, though, he lets everything else fall away.

**Author's Note:**

> http://shions-heart.tumblr.com/


End file.
